Harry Potter and the Shivering Isles
by Oirarana
Summary: Fragments of a dream flicker through Harry's waking mind, multi-hued festivals overlooking dank and dreary streets. His thoughts are dominated by a statue of a head with three faces and a Scottish voice booming 'Bring me a Champion'


I'm not really going to truly start this story yet but I thought I'd put this out into the world as a teaser. This is a crossover with the Elder Scrolls, in particular the Shivering Isles expansion for Oblivion. For those of you who may have played the game, you'll understand the 'power the Dark Lord knows not' that I intend Harry to have, for those of you who haven't, once I get this up and running you will be in for a wild ride.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, that belongs to JK Rowling. I do not own the Elder Scrolls, they belong to Bethesda. I do not make money from this fic

**Warnings:** This story will contain adult themes, of almost every kind. The Shivering Isles is rated M for a reason

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The house at Number 4 Privet Drive was almost dead silent. The sounds of the night interrupted only by the snores of the occupants and the creaking of beds under the weight of their owners.

In the second bedroom however, a small dark haired figure tossed and turned as he dreamed, a dream that he could neither ignore nor awake from.

For it was no ordinary dream.

"I have need of a champion" a male voice spoke to him from within his dream, the Scottish lilt of the voice seeming to strengthen its message.

Harry saw a statue of a three faced head deep within a forest, tended by people in a mismatch of clothes; he thought they looked more bizarre than the wizards at the world cup when they tried to dress like muggles, that is, non magical people.

"A mortal champion, to wade through the blood of my enemies" the Scottish voice whispered in Harry's ears as a vision of a twisting road lined with alternating dark and golden clad warriors panned out before him.

Harry felt like he was floating up the path at a rapid pace, everything around him blurred until he was suddenly standing in front of a throne, the material slpit into two colours.

Sitting in the throne was a white haired man with a neatly trimmed beard; his clothes were purple and yellow and were covered in twisted, demented designs. Though mismatched they seemed oddly appropriate on this man.

But what drew Harry's attention were the man's eyes, instead of white his eyes were black, with golden irises and slit pupils. He was clearly not human.

"Yes…you'll do nicely," the man spoke, and Harry recognised the voice from before, "You'll rip, tear and smash all who stand before me. And if you're lucky, you'll do it all before I decide to rip your entrails out and skip rope with them!"

"Who…who are you?" Harry breathed, the sheer power he could feel emanating from this being taking the air out of his lungs.

"You've never heard of me?" the being questioned, perplexed, "That's not good, I'll have to remedy that. It's dreadfully boring when people do not recognise, don't you think?"

Harry went to open his mouth but he was interrupted, "No, wait, never mind, it's not important. Important, im…por..tant, taaaaant" the being shook his head roughly while Harry could only stare in shock.

"Oh, you're still here, well seeing as you haven't gone anywhere I should probably introduce myself" the man rubbed his hands together and looked off to the side.

When he didn't continue Harry opened his mouth to ask once more but was interrupted as the man's attention was turned back to him.

"I'm Sheogorath, the Prince of Madness, among other things" the newly named Sheogorath looked around suspiciously for a moment before leaning towards Harry as if to whisper a secret.

"But I'd rather not talk about that right now" he said at a normal volume.

"What do you want from me?" Harry inquired cautiously.

"That! That can wait!" Sheogorath stated gleefully, "You need to wake up now after all!"

"Wake up?" Harry asked, completely perplexed.

"Go away now; wake up, before I decide to turn you into a clam. When you get up you'll have to find a way into my realm, shouldn't be too hard…unless…well, just do it."

At 12:01 Harry Potter shot upright in his bed, a strange voice echoing in his head, his body was drenched in sweat.

While he couldn't remember the dream he just had, he knew it was important. Looking at the clock he lay back down, whispering to himself, "Happy Fifteenth Birthday Harry"

All the while a voice echoed throughout his subconscious, "come to me mortal, come into the sweet embrace of Madness."

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Well, I hope you liked it, I must reiterate that I'm unlikely to start this up yet, as I have an ongoing Bleach fanfic at the moment, but I just wanted to see if the idea was worth writing about.

Let me know.


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